The Further Misadventures
by Estates General
Summary: The sequel to Misadventures of the Musicals. Sweeney, Nellie, and Toby all continue life at the shops with everyone they brought home from the previous misadventure. Avoid and forget you ever saw this. E.G&I.G Production. (Very Abandoned.)
1. Uneasy Traveler

E.G and I.G: Everyone, this is the sequel to The Misadventures of the Musicals, if you have not read that, find it at Ignored Genius' page, eh? Save yourself a lot of confusion. An uncountable amount of Thank Yous Bramblefox for un-officially beta reading the original Misadventure and Broadwaygeek24601 for the advice on the dialog AND ANYONE ELSE WHO GAVE CONSTRUCTIVE INSIGHT!! Now, my friends, we eat Cheez-Its.

-Muchmunchmunchmucnh-

I.G: And, as an additional A/N, We've tried my very hardest to combine a healthy dosage of all books, musicals and movies, take for instance, Sweeney will have the hair of Movie Todd but he will have habits like Musical Todd, Mrs. Lovett has the musical's red hair and general sweetness, but movie everything else, Erik will have a full mask with Kay Erik's past, but Gerik's age (only because I think it is undyingly creepy for a 50 year old man to date a 20 year old girl) and a Leroux Christine. The Amis will be based off book, but musical will be tossed in, rest assured. Now git! –Shoves you deeper into fanfic whilst snaking on PayDay- P.S All author notes actually happened while writing this and the previous misadventure. We own no characters. Only ze plot, veech is not vedy gooood.

**The Further Misadventures **

**Of the **

**Musicals**

"C'mon, love! Wake up! We're almost home." Mrs. Lovett said too cheerfully as she shook a certain barber by his shoulder, "Wake up already!" Sweeney snapped an eye open, groaning he sat up,

"How long has it been?" he asked, dusting off his sleeves and pants.

"It's about… oh, say, eleven o'clock. A few hours of rest ain't bad dearie." Mrs. Lovett said forever optimistic, it dampened Sweeney's already dark mood, "Why are you so happy?"

"I've already told you! I've got an adoptive family to take care of!"

"How are we going to keep… you know." He glanced around, seeing no one awake, made a slashing gesture across his neck and then clicked his mouth shut.

"Oh, don't worry! I've got it all planned out." She said lightly.

"Care to enlighten me?" He asked gruffly, getting to his feet.

"We've kept," she mimicked his gesture, " A secret from Tobi we can just keep them out of the cellar."

"That won't work, you know how messy," he gestured again, "Is, and besides, these men aren't quite as slow as Tobi, granted, they aren't very smart."

"Don't be stupid, Mr. Todd. I can keep them out of the bake house and you could buy an extra change of clothes." She said dismissively, walking over to Enjolras, who slept, arms crossed and head resting on it's side, and shook him awake, "C'mon, love. We're about an hour away from London, help me wake your friends up, dearie."

Enjolras' eyes snapped open; "How long was I out?!" he cried, leaping to his feet.

"Calm down, lad, you've only been asleep for a few hours, Mr. Erik has been out cold as long as you and Mr. Todd." She smiled, and took a step towards the Ghost, "Dearie, wake up, we're here!" she said, bending down to shake his shoulder. "C'mon! Wake up!" She said, gently shaking him, "Christine! You hit this one a little too hard!" she called; Christine came flurrying over to his side.

"What...? The bleary eyed phantom asked, sitting up on one elbow, putting a hand on his head, "What hit me?"

"An oar."

"What!?"

"I didn't want you to do anything while they slept!" Christine scolded, pulling him to his feet as Mrs. Lovett moved on along the Amis, waking them up as she went.

"I wasn't going to do anything!"

"C'mon, Erik, I know you better! You would've driven them insane before they woke up!"

"True, but…" Enjolras and Sweeney turned red; "You were going to drive us insane?!" Enjolras demanded,

"Only a little bit!" Erik answered sarcastically,

"Just a little bit!" The barber cried.

"Yup, I've done it before, too"

Both Sweeney and Enjolras took a step back.

"I'll take your word for it" The blonde said, turning around to face the railing, staring out at the approaching bridge.

"London. How'd I get myself into this?" Enjolras asked himself, leaning forward on the banister.

"Ah, Blond-o," Erik said, ruffling his hair again, "You decided to rise against the government, trapped the wrong people there on **your **barricade and aforementioned wrong people decided to make you and your little friends go to London to escape fuzzy-face the cop, losing our memory are we?"

Enjolras batted his hand away from his head, "Would you mind stopping that"

Erik maneuvered his other hand and ruffled his hair, "Stop what? Tousling your hair or calling you Blond-o?"

Enjolras rolled his eyes, "Both." He muttered ducking his head away and smoothing his hair back down with his hand. "How much longer do we have to suffer on this floating hell?" A sleepy Fueilly asked, standing up and stretching his legs.

"Can't ya see? The boat's nearly docked, we're here." The barber said tonelessly, standing and heading towards the pier, followed by the Amis then Erik and Christine.

Once on land, Enjolras motioned for his friends to follow him, "Madame, I still feel it is too generous of you to take all of us into your home, we'll just be going now. Thank you." The young man said turning to go, behind his back, Mrs. Lovett smirked knowingly, "Fine, hope you brought enough money to lodge all your friends for a few months, and good luck finding your way to an inn. Oh, and I hope it dun't rain on ya." She said, twirling a lock of red hair between her fingers and then pointing at the threatening dark overcast of storm clouds, Enjolras stopped walking, "How much money did you all bring?" the blonde asked, turning to his friends, some of them shook their heads and others turned their pockets inside out to show they had nothing.

"Oh, then again, dearie; francs and sous are useless here!" the baker chimed patting Tobi on the shoulder. "So don't be so stingy, love, we're offering you virtually _free_ lodgings and food, asking only that you do some chores and what not. Win/win situation!" Mrs. Lovett continued following Sweeney away from the docks, a reluctant blonde and Les Amis followed after them. Jehan, wide eyed, turned to Marius, "I'm scared."

I.G: I'm so sorry for the delay! It's not finished, but we'll give you the first several chapters so you won't hate us! Y-Y


	2. Night of the Living Pies

LATER

**Eh heh heh… Well… look what the cat dragged in? A long promised and anticipated second chapter to a stale story. Our deepest apologies. **

**LATER**

"Here we are loves!" Mrs. Lovett announced swinging her Shop door open and stepping in, "Are any of ya hungry? I can whip up a pie for ya if ya like" The Amis followed her in eyeing the room curiously.

"Say no, Lads." Sweeney muttered also stepping in, Mrs. Lovett nudged the barber, "Don't say that! I'll admit, they were the worst pies in London, scratch that, the **world**, until I added my –ahem- secret ingredient." Combeferre looked intrigued, "What's the secret?"

"Three times! That's the secret! Three times the charm." Tobias said beaming proudly ((I.G: Don't ask, please, I've screwed with the timeline as well as the characters. Let's say it's slightly before By the Sea for you Sweeney Tards….)).

"_Three times_ isn't an ingredient." Combeferre said rationally, pushing his glasses onto the bridge of his nose Mrs. Lovett flew through her brain for something to say that might satisfy the inquisitive doctor, "Ah, erm, ooh, it's a--- Shut up dearie." The baker said, gesturing in defeat. "Now whose hungry?" she asked, quickly recovering, bustling behind the counter for a pie. "Oh, bugger, I forgot to throw the old pies out." She mumbled to herself.

Sweeney sank into the booth at the kitchen table and put his palm to his forehead. "Please, Mrs. Lovett, no pies." He said dismally, glancing at the table before him, he brightened considerably, "Ah! Thank God, just where I left it." Sweeney exclaimed happily, snatching his pipe up. As he was about to light it Joly backed against the wall in terror as Combeferre raised his finger pointedly, "Smoking deteriorates your lungs and throat and heart and teeth. Joly's a bit of a heath nut." He said, putting his hands behind his back once he finished his statement. Sweeney stopped short of lighting the pipe, "So you're telling me I can't smoke?"

"That would be best." Sweeney was quite tempted to smash the boy's head in _with _his pipe, just to spite him when the young doctor spoke up again "Though, you're temperamental as it is, I'd hate to see you without your tobacco." Sweeney tipped his pipe to him cheerfully, "Glad you see it my way." He commented sarcastically, lighting it, sending Joly into panic, the hypochondriac stood glued to the wall, holding his hankie to his nose and mouth.

"Here we are loves! Delicious pies for lun-- Mr. T no smokin' inside." She said, balancing a tray of innocent looking pies with one hand and pointing an accusing finger at Sweeney with the other as he quickly doused his pipe ((I.G With his tears. Nah, let's just say he doused it… somehow)). "Everyone at the table, now there's plenty for everyone." She ordered leading everyone back outside to the picnic tables and handed each person a plate and a pie.

Erik looked at his pie suspiciously and noticed in alarm that there was something moving around inside. "I wouldn't-!" he began but it was too late. The eleven table guests sank their teeth in their pies and twenty-two eyes promptly widened in shocked disgust. Mrs. Lovett beamed, "The pies good, m'dears?" she asked sweetly. Everyone nodded, tears filling and falling out of their eyes. "Good!" Mrs. Lovett exclaimed euphorically.

Sweeney sat and stared ahead blankly. "Mrs. Lovett, could I see you inside for a moment?" he asked between his teeth standing up and pushing his plate away from him. "Sure luv, scuse me boys, and Christine." She bustled up the stairs to the barbershop. Everyone followed her with their eyes until she was out of sight, without a moment's hesitation they turned to their right and spat their pie out onto the ground.

Jehan's face contorted with disgust, "How could something be so vile! I've never been so disgusted in my life!" he said frantically wiping his tongue on his hankie.

Marius looked worried, "What do we do with the pies? I don't know about you but I'm not hungry anymore!" he said, pushing his plate away from him, scared to touch it again.

"It's not good manners for her to come back and see we haven't taken another bite! And I don't wanna hurt her feelings!" Christine said anxiously wringing her hands. Courfeyrac glanced around uneasily,

"Maybe there is a stray dog that will eat these…?" he stated poking his pie with a fork. Joly looked revolted, "I don't think there's a dog hungry enough to stomach these!" he said, eyes watering. Fueilly bit his lip, "What about burying them?"

"Come now, we're not animals." Combeferre said, raising his hands reasonably despite the greenish tinge in his face.

Laigle pointed in horror at his pie, "I think our problem's solved." He said shakily as he watched his pie, and the pies of his comrades scurry across the table. Jehan looked ready to faint, "W-what's in those?" the poet asked cautiously. Enjolras bravely reached over and caught one of the runaway pastries and looked inside, mildly surprised to see something staring back at him "Well, uh, looks like a mouse staring back at me, mold or someth--!"

"Hellllloo!" A high-pitched voice greeted from inside the pie. Enjolras let out a short "Oh my God!" before leaning back and launching the talking pie across the street, "AHHHHH! NOOOOOO! I wanted to be frieeeennndds!" the voice cried as it rolled into the gutter. Christine elbowed Erik, "Stop that!" Erik tried to look innocent, failing appallingly. "Whatever are you taking about?" he asked, staring at the sky, if he could have sprouted a halo he would have. "I wish I could throw my pie, but mine's already turned the corner." Courfeyrac said light heartedly, whilst pointing at his pie that was in fact, turning the corner. There was scattered laughter amongst the Amis. "Erik, are you making the pies walk away, too?" Christine asked cautiously, Erik shook his head slowly, "That's the scary part. They did that by themselves…" he said, scraping the crumbs off of his plate onto the ground.

It was at that moment that an even gloomier Sweeney and ever-happy Mrs. Lovett returned. "Ah my lovies, did you enjoy your pies?" She asked, patting Sweeney's shoulder, forcing him back into his seat. "You didn't seriously eat them did you!?" he asked, extremely surprised. "Oh yes, they were… really something." Enjolras said cracking a smile. "I must say, that's _**quite**_ a secret ingredient ya got there." Combeferre said, gulping the taste out of his mouth. Sweeney looked at all of them incredulous, "You _really_ ate them."

"Oh, we should of set up where you'll be sleepin so you'll have a place to lie down when you become violently ill." She stated plainly and knowingly, collecting the empty plates, she turned around and headed into her shop. Everyone released a sigh of relief as Sweeney smirked, "You didn't eat 'em, you'd be lying twitching on the ground by now if you had." He said, leaning back and crossing his arms. "Would _you_ have eaten them?" Courfeyrac demanded, running his tongue over his teeth.

"He made the pies talk!" Marius said unsteadily, pointing accusingly at Erik, Sweeney raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh. Sure he did, boy, just keep blaming him for the voices you're hearing." He said mockingly, rolling his eyes. "He did! I swear! Here, look!" Marius persisted, reaching (uninvited) into Sweeney's pocket and pulled out a razor and held it out in front of him. "Make it talk!" the lawyer demanded holding the blade out.

"Marius my dear boy, you've lost it, I can't talk. For God's sake I'm a razor… _I_ _want your_ _soul_." Erik made the razor say in a high voice, causing Marius to drop it in alarm. "Honestly, making your friends believe- ouch!" the voice cried as Christine slapped Erik's shoulder. "Sorry, M. Marius, he loves messing with people's minds. Do you believe now, M. Todd?" Sweeney stared at the space in front of him, back in his obsession, "There **must** be a way to the judge." He muttered forebodingly to himself, reaching out and wrapping his fingers around his razor.

"What judge? What _are_ you going on about, barber?" Erik asked sharply, only able to distinguish 'judge' out of what he was saying from his place at the table. Sweeney ignored him and flicked open a razor, closing it then opening it again. The Amis exchanged rather worried glances that said 'we're going to be living with _that_?' As they began their worrying, the sky opened up and it began to pour down rain.

Sweeney and Erik swore loudly as they filed inside, dripping wet.

"Oupps, warned ya about the rain, come on, dears, inside." Mrs. Lovett said lightly, handing everyone a dishtowel to dry off. Combeferre looked around and scratched his head, "Where'd the boys go?"

Mrs. Lovett started slightly, "I thought they were with you." She stated concerned. Laigle crossed the room, walked into the parlor and peaked in. "Oh, no need for alarm, Madame, they're in here. Fear not, they're sleeping in front of the fire place." Mrs. Lovett flustered past him and knelt by the sleeping boys, "Not sleeping, they got into the gin." She said slightly annoyed as she plucked the two now empty bottles that they had clutched to their chests.

Coufeyrac batted his eyelashes and laid a hand on his own cheek, "Like sleeping drunken angels." He said brightly, there was a bit more scattered laughter, then a gloomy silence. "Oh, come now, loves, no need for the sad faces, I admit, we probably aren't your first choice of residence, but that don't mean we can't enjoy each other's company." Mrs. Lovett assured ushering them into the parlor, "Today, we rest. Tomorrow, I'll teach ya how to bake." She added plopping down on the love seat between Erik and Sweeney, "Ah, lovies!" she cried joyously, laying her head on Sweeney's shoulder, much to his dismay. "Imma mum!" she squeed happily, wrapping her arms around his neck closing her eyes and bouncing with happy energy.

Sweeney looked at Erik from over Mrs. Lovett's head and mouthed over and over again, 'Get it off! Get it off! _**Get it**_ _**off now!**_' Enjolras and Erik stifled a laugh, as did the Amis. Erik nodded slightly, "You know, I'm getting a bit bored, do have a deck of cards, Mme. Lovett?" he lied, he was honestly and thoroughly enjoying himself. "Oh, of course dear!" Mrs. Lovett replied releasing Sweeney and rising to the desk. The barber rose quickly, headed out the door, into the rain and up the stairs to his shop to sulk.

"There you go dearie, they're a bit worn, hard to shuffle, but they're cards none the less." said the baker cheerfully as she entered the parlor again. "Where'd Mr. Todd go? Oh never mind, he's probably upstairs, brooding." She added just as cheerfully, handing Erik the cards; he immediately set up a game of solitaire on the harmonium.

And thus the afternoon was spent chatting amiably with each other and eventually Tobi and Gavroche woke up, they played chess while Mrs. Lovett knitted away at a muffler for Tobi as the rain continued to fall, until about 10:00pm, that is . . .

HOW DO YOU LIKE IT!?!?! ANSWER US IN A REVIEW! ANSWER US NOAUW!! OR WE'LL FIND YOUUUU!!!!


	3. Unrestful

**We'll get a good chunk of it up today. I hope you all aren't too angry at us. By the way, this has been done…. For a while now, we just kept saying "oh, let's edit it, it's so crappy and poorly written…" Well, that didn't happen. Dreadfully sorry.**

**Meanwhile**

"But-but-but." Enjolras started, following Mrs. Lovett around the shop as she bustled around for blankets and the like.

"No 'buts', Enjy, we don't have enough room down here for you, go upstairs, Mr. Todd isn't a rabid dog, he won't bite." The baker said as she patted Enjolras on the head.

"His bite doesn't worry me! His razors _do_! …. And don't call me Enjy" Enjolras muttered unhappily, accepting a blanket she handed to him

"And he's a sitting duck up there!" Courfeyrac cried from his place on the floor.

"Would _you_ rather go upstairs?" Mrs. Lovett chimed thoughtlessly. Courfeyrac looked startled and thought only a moment, "Good luck, Enjolras."

"Et to, Courfeyrac?" Enjolras said dismally, "Is anyone else going upstairs?"

"Yeah, uh… YOU! You go." Mrs. Lovett said pointing at Jehan who shrank back, "But-but-but… M. Erik is so much more qualified then me!" the poet cried, securely wrapping himself in a blanket.

"You're only sleeping upstairs, there is no qualification. Now git." Mrs. Lovett almost chidingly, pulling Jehan to his feet, "Erik, dearie, I don't know what it is about you, but either way I don't think it's quite proper for you to be sleeping in the same room as your lady friend, upstairs with you." Erik started from his place at the harmonium as Enjolras face palmed.

"Yes, I guess I just have that effect on people. Alright, c'mon boys, lets go." Erik said, smirking and pulling himself to his full height as he passed Jehan who trembled violently.

Marius, feeling sorry for Jehan's soft poetic heart, sighed and got to his feet. "You stay down here, Prouvaire, I'll go up with 'Enjy' and M. Erik." Marius said, smirking at our dear blonde and ghost.

"Hahaha, good for you, Pontmercy." Enjolras clapped him on the shoulder then tightened his grip, "Don't call me 'Enjy'." he corrected harshly. Jehan shook the lawyer's hand quickly, muttering his thanks too fast for anyone to follow, then laid down on the floor, fast asleep ((I.G: Awww, sleeping poet! E.G: -poke- Stop interrupting the flow of the story and keep typing!))

Mrs. Lovett stopped Marius before he was out the door, "Wait, lad. They need to learn how to live with each other, so it's up to _you_ to make sure they don't kill one another while they're up there." Although Marius paled he nodded before hurrying to catch up with Enjolras.

Erik lively stepped up the stairs, already concocting a plan to drive the barber mad; stopped at the door and knocked, "M. Todd? Sweeeeeney?" Erik said in a light singsong voice as he opened the door. Sweeney was facing the window, back to them, polishing a razor in his shirtsleeves.

"M-monsieur Todd? Good evening." Marius greeted, setting his blanket on the trunk. Sweeney made no response.

"Mme. Lovett sent us up here against our will because there isn't enough room downstairs." Enjolras explained, slipping passed Erik in order to get out of the pouring rain.

"Alright, make yourself at home and go to sleep," Sweeney muttered monotonous.

"O-okay. Thanks?" Marius said uneasily. Sweeney ignored him as he put his razors in their case and picked up a framed picture.

Erik stepped inside from behind them, "Yeesh, what a mess, must be an inch of dust on everything! A bachelor thing, I understand," Erik said evenly, running his finger along the doorframe.

Enjolras and Marius nervously looked around the shop, barely wanting to move, but Erik however was not so subtle; he went about the room, poking around, picking up and setting down various things. "Who're they?" he asked looking over Sweeney's shoulder trying to get a better look at the picture he was holding. Sweeney hastily closed the picture frame and swiveled to face him. "They're no one… Just go to sleep." The barber repeated, crossing his arms forebodingly. Marius shuffled his feet awkwardly, "Well, M. Todd, we can't just go to sleep on command…."

"Sleep, dammit!" Sweeney shouted agitatedly.

"Yessir." Marius squeaked before lying down on his blanket before doing as he was told. Enjolras gaped and Erik watched the lawyer sleep with slight amusement, "I thought I was the only one who could do that…" the phantom shrugged indifferently. Enjolras cleared his throat uncomfortably. "I'm -uh- going to… get on the next ferry back to France." He said taking a step backwards to the door. Erik waved good-bye pleasantly, "Bon voyage, Blond-o-licious." Enjolras smiled falsely and waved back also before opening the door and bounding down the stairs.

Sweeney smiled happily, "One gone, six or seven to go…" he said, counting on his fingers. Erik shrugged, "Count me gone, I'm leaving, Christine can stay to keep herself safe." The phantom looked thoughtful a moment, "I think I'll go to Italy again. I liked Italy" ((E.G & I.G: -high five- Italians!)) Sweeney swung his arms in the direction of the door. "Have at it then, Skinny." The barber said cheerfully. Erik tipped an imaginary hat and walked out the door and down the stairs.

Not a minute passed, not enough time to think of what to do with the sleeping Marius and certainly not enough time to lock the door, did he hear Erik, Enjolras and Mrs. Lovett's arguing loudly.

"You can't even afford a place to stay!" Mrs. Lovett shouted, frustrated.

"Yes I can!" Enjolras shot back.

"I don't even need a place to stay, you don't want me here obviously." Erik said trying to brush past the baker before she placed her arm out in front of him, blocking his path.

"True, Erik Dear, I'm not particularly fond of you but Christine will be miserable here alone, so stay for her sake. You don't want her to be lonesome, do you?" Erik shook his head vigorously. "Then stay." Erik shrank back in defeat but remained on the stairs.

"My friends aren't babies, they can live here without me." Enjolras continued to protest.

"Yes, dearie, but do you know what will happen to you if you return now?"

"I'll build another barricade?" Enjolras said sarcastically.

"Not exactly, you'll be strung up by your slender, pale neck in front of thousands of Parisians."

"But—"

"Damnit, Enjolras! No **buts**! Your life matters to your friends so don't pull that crap on me! Besides, they're lost sheep without ya." She said.

"That's not true! . . . Fueilly is very self sufficient." Enjolras said hopelessly.

"Dearie, quit your fussing." She heaved a deep sigh. "I don't want your blood on my hands." She said patting his cheek mournfully, "Now loves, go back upstairs before Mr. Todd locks you out and you have to spend the night on the porch in the rain."

Enjolras nodded regretfully and turned around, Erik following him shortly.

"Well that failed" Enjolras said dejectedly as he walked through the door followed shortly by Erik.

Sweeney looked up from dusting off his chair, "You're staying here?"

"Sadly enough, yes" Enjolras replied.

"Wait a minute" Erik stopped, "I was just guilt tripped!"

"She's guilt tripped me before too." Sweeney said absently.

"Do tell, barber." Erik said unhappily leaning against the wall.

"She said 'your love would want you to be happy! Come to France with me and Tobi and we'll have a grand time.' God was she wrong. She's just enthusiastic about having a family to take care of, you'll be outta here when she gets bored with you." The barber said wistfully, now, once again, polishing one of his spotless razors. "Can't see why…"

"Yeah, yeah, we love you too, barber." Erik said quietly.

"Whatever, go to sleep, both of ya" Sweeney said gruffly, turning to look out the window.

Enjolras glanced at Marius' sleeping form, then back at the two murderers.

"'S'matter Blondie? Still afraid we're gonna kill ya in your sleep?" Erik taunted as he watched Sweeney as he began pacing.

"Uh, yeah, a little bit," Enjolras answered, rubbing the back of his head.

"Ah, calm down, Blond-o, Madame Lovett will kill _us_ if we kill _you_"

"Yes, that's very reassuring" Enjolras said, rolling his eyes.

Erik shrugged indifferently as he sat down on the ground, "Do stop pacing barber, you're making me sea sick."

Sweeney continued his pacing, unabashed. "I wasn't making suggestions, Todd." Erik continued threateningly. "Is pacing what you do all night?" he asked stretching his legs out in front of him, nearly tripping Sweeney. Sweeney offered a small nod, not slowing his step or stopping. "Ah, that explains why it looks like you haven't slept in ten years." The barber sent him a withering glare pausing briefly before starting his walk again.

"Ah, on second though, you're very entertaining to watch, you know that barber? Wouldn't you agree, Blondie?" Erik turned to address Enjolras, "Blondie?" Sight that greeted him was Enjolras. The past days event had taken their toll; he was sound asleep.


	4. Cat Fight! D8

THE NEXT MORNING

The rain had stopped but the sky kept its glaring gray over cast of clouds. "Wake up!" Mrs. Lovett cried, nudging various Amis members awake, which were met with groans. "Get up, I've made breakfast!" That statement was followed by more groans and gagging. "Dearies get up; it's time to learn to bake!"

"Baking is for ladies." Courfeyrac said sleepily sitting up. Tobi looked indignant, "It's not just for ladies!"

"Ladies bake while us manly men bring home the bacon."

Mrs. Lovett tapped him with her foot, "How about you get up before I stuff your manly man arse into the oven! I need to get Mr. Todd's guests, be back in a two shakes of a lamb's tail." She said as she went out the door and up the stairs.

"Mr. Todd? Mr. Erik? Enjolras? Lawyer whose name escapes me? Wake up." Mrs. Lovett chimed cheerfully, opening the door. She was surprised to see Erik and Sweeney glaring at each other from across the room.

"You weren't up all night, were you?" Mrs. Lovett asked as she closed the door.

Enjolras, who had been awake and sitting against the trunk shook his head, "Well, we weren't" he indicated to Marius above him, also awake and lying on the trunk, "We're not insomniacs like them." Marius said, sitting up.

"Well. Soups on. If any of ya are hungry." She offered.

"Alright," Enjolras said, standing up and dusting himself off, Marius following him, until they remembered their pies from the previous afternoon and sat back down, "Actually, Madame, I'm not very hungry." Marius said politely crossing his legs.

"Are ya sure loves? I made another batch pies." Enjolras and the lawyer choked on the inside. "No, we — are still full from yesterday. But I'm sure M. Todd and M. Erik are starving." The blond said, smiling dazzlingly. "What a charmer." Sweeney muttered rolling his eyes.

"Yeah, isn't he just… adorable?" Erik said dismally, pinching Enjolras' cheek.

"Ouch! Stop that." The revolutionary said knocking Erik's hand away.

"Now, Mr. Erik, stop bullying him. Mr. Todd, both of you, come downstairs." She said, grabbing Erik and Sweeney by their ears and dragging them down the stairs.

**UPSTAIRS**

Enjolras and Marius looked at each other. "Go for a walk?" the lawyer suggested.

"And get hopelessly lost?" Enjolras retorted sarcastically.

"We can't get lost, men have an impeccable sense of direction." Marius said proudly.

"Marius, you know that's a lie. I know this, because that's what brought **Skinny **_**to the barricade**_**!!"** Enjolras snapped at him.

"Don't blame me for this! If you need to blame someone, blame Mlle. Daae, she made me chase them. Or blame Courfeyrac, who made M. Erik angry enough to chase him across the city." Marius said, once again, tugging at his cuffs.

Enjolras shrugged, "I'm not blaming anyone. I'm just saying I'm not thrilled that that I had to run like a coward from my own mother country." He sighed, it was Marius' turn to be confused, "But, Paris isn't anything like Corsica," Enjolras slowly turned his head to look at him, "Are you serious?" Marius nodded firmly, "And men _**DO**_ have an impeccable sense of direction!"

There was silence a moment, much like the calm before the storm, "Corsica is _nothing_ to France. She doesn't hold a candle to Paris." Enjolras said slowly.

"Oh, you crossed the line, War monger!"

"Coward!"

"Blondie!"

"Curly Top!"

"Republican!"

"Democrat!"

"RAWR!!" Marius cried tackling Enjolras backward over the balustrade and down to the hard earth below. "RA-**aaaaaah!**" they both cried as they waited for gravity to slap them in the face.

They landed hard next to one another. "Ooooh, that smarts." Marius said rolling over onto his back. (I.G Hooray for Good Omens References –raises hand to high five- -realizes E.G has gone to get a graham cracker and mournfully goes back to work-) Enjolras also rolled over, "Pontmercy, if anything is broken, so help me God, I'll beat you unconscious with a damp washcloth."

"Boys?" Mrs. Lovett called, peeking out her door, "Oh dear God!" She hurried over to them, "What the hell happened?"  
"Enjolras said Corsica was nothing!" Marius cried, sitting up.

"Well it isn't anything!" Enjolras yelled, getting shakily to his feet.

Mrs. Lovett frowned, "You got in a fist fight over _that_? (What the hell is a Corsica?)"

They nodded.

"I sent you to make peace, Lawyer! Not get in a fight that you can't win!"

Enjolras laughed scornfully as Erik and Sweeney peeked out the door.

"What did you two do?" Sweeney asked.

Enjolras shook his head, "Nothing." With that he and Marius marched inside to breakfast as Erik and Sweeney marched up the stairs to sulk.


	5. Boom splat!

Mrs. Lovett turned and looked at the group of boys in front of her and said, "Ok boys, see, sprinkle some flour on the cutting board" she did so and took a glob of dough out of a bowl and broke off a piece "Take a bit about this size and make a little cup." She fashioned the little glob into a cup, "Put a ladle full of meat in," she took a large spoon and scooped some meat out of a bowl and plopped it in the pie cup, "Take another bit of dough like this and flatten it," She began rolling out another glob of dough, "put the dough over the cup and stick it in the little oven here, but wait til you have sixteen, that's the max amount it holds." Mrs. Lovett set the pie on the counter next to her, "Got it boys?" Enjolras, Marius, L'Aigle, Combeferre, and Gavroche all nodded.

"Very good! Now, I'll be downstairs in the bake house. No one! Is allowed down there but Mr. T. and me, got it?" She commanded darkly before she bustled downstairs into the bake house.

Combeferre pushed his glasses onto the bridge of his nose. "Okay, let's make an assembly line and each of us does a different job, I'll break the dough off, Marius fashion it into a pie, Gavroche fill it with meat and Enjolras puts a dough cover on it and Boussuet sticks it in the oven, alright?" Combeferre suggested.

Marius was excited, he always (secretly) wanted to learn to cook, "Good idea!"  
"Have I **ever** steered you wrong?"

"Always"

"Shut up. Marius." The doctor said lightheartedly as he rolled up his sleeves.

Gavroche snickered to himself; no one knows how crafty a gamin is, unless he himself is a gamin. The young boy reached into his pocket and waited until everyone's back was turned and dropped a dozen cherry bomb firecrackers into the meat bowel.

After fifteen minutes, there were sixteen unbaked pies sitting harmlessly on the counter. Bossuet opened the oven and popped each one of them in and shut the latch. "And now we wait,"

It only took a few minutes for the firecrackers to get hot enough to explode. Simultaneously the firecrackers went off, blowing off the latch on the oven door, sending the pie filling into the faces of the barricade boys.

Bossuet, Marius, Enjolras, and Combeferre spat out the fried pie that had gotten into their mouths and wiped the soot off of their faces. "GAVROCHE!!" they yelled, looking around for the gamin, who had long gone far enough away from them not to be in any danger, but close enough to witness and laughed hysterically.

Mrs. Lovett raced up the stairs and got a cup of water and dumped it on the fire that had started inside the oven, "Changed my mind, loves. You can be waiters with Tobi. Jehan dearie, Courfeyrac, Bossuet, Feuilly, Christine, c'mon dearies, help your friends clean up this mess and I'll teach ya how to bake." Gavroche giggled, he knew he could get out baking if he really wanted to.

Christine, Fueilly, Jehan and Courfeyrac, who had learned not to make passes on Christine, proved to be worthy cooks; they worked steadily and with light hearts as the evening crowd came in.


End file.
